Whispers
The constant whispers in my ear
Never seem to disappear
They shout. They sing. They tell me when he’ll die
That I’ll be the one who will try and try
The whispers tell me things no one else knows
Of secrets and poisons, of a man and a rose
When I disobey them, they screech and squeal
They run through my head and make it their meal
The whispers show me my fears. They will not cease!
Not until my hands are smeared with cerise